


back on my bullshit

by Anonymous



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: Crack, Drabbles, Talking Tentavalves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-09
Updated: 2018-10-09
Packaged: 2019-07-18 03:17:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16109648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: series of shockblurr stories based on stupid, archaic aus and absolutely apeshit ideas, if you have any questions, look at the tags. enjoy.





	back on my bullshit

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kitkaters](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitkaters/gifts).



Blurr perked up, his chime of his doorbell chimed around his hab. He stood hurriedly to open the door. It was a very special night, and he didn't want to delay it any further than he had the previous orns. Today, he had something very special planned.

Blurr bounded to the door just as the digital alarm stopped chiming and commanded the door to open. In the doorway stood a hunched form. A red optic scanned over him, barely a cursory glance, but it made him shiver.

" _Agent Blurr,_ " the figure intoned.

"Shockwave." Blurr's throat cables flexed.

Shockwave's optic tracked the movement. "May I come in?"

Blurr side-stepped and the larger mech lowered his sensor horns past the frame of the door before standing to his full height once more. Blurr looked up at him dreamily. There was something about staring up at a mech from his hip that did something to the cortex.

Some may ask why Shockwave of all bots was in his hab, but the true question was, why shouldn't he?

After the war ended, hostilities were slow to decline. There was a lot of bad energon between the old factions. Many bots—under Sentinel's fear mongering—had demanded the decepticons be shown to permanent brigs in Tyripticon, or boiled alive under the heat of Cybertron's natural smelting wells. The decepticons had likewise suggested that all autobots step down from places of bureaucracy so they could control the government and abolish the new council. There was a lot of history being slung around by all involved, but it had worked out well-enough in the end.

Megatron and his top five commanders made up half of the newest council (with a new name for the group pending) while the newly awakened Ultra Magnus and his own top five commanders made up the other half. Megatron and Ultra Magnus were at the top tiers of their faction, they both needed to have a say on the on-goings of Cybertron. They were the only ones who really knew just how much damage and destruction had been wrought to the planet and its people. Their seconds in command, Strika and Jazz respectively, were also on the council. Both knew the underground goings of Cybertron, and word had it that they ran Cybertron's special ops. together. Other than those four, there weren't any other bald-faced officers present on the new council. Well, if you could count decepticons as being other than officers that was. Each half of the group had one science bot, one medical, and one tactical in addition. Botanica and a previously unknown femm by the designation of Slipstream ran the science division. Hook and Red Alert ran medical. The official Heads of Tactical were Wheeljack and a very tall mech who bore the entire decepticon insignia like a fashion trend, his designation was Tarn. Neither of them worked in tactical, Jazz and Strika upheld tactical and special ops easy on their own, so the title was their mostly so they could attend meetings.

With all of them hemming and hawing over the state of Cybertronian affairs, things began to calm down. Old rivalries were put aside, autobots and decepticons could be found in bars drunkenly singing together about handsome mechs with clever servos, and many mechs from off-planet finally came back home. Even the galactic trade went up. With no fear of being caught in the crossfire of their war, many alien dignitaries came to Cybertron to extend alliances and attempt to curry favor, the usual pompous political slag that Blurr didn't really care about these days. All in all, the future was looking bright.

In fact, his future was looking _very_ bright.

Shockwave's claw traced a gentle pattern over Blurr's spoiler, and his engine purred at the attention. "Eager, are we?" Shockwave teased, trailing his claws lower and flitting them over his back. They were as sharp as knives, but with Shockwave's control they didn't even leave a scratch. When Shockwave opened his palm, Blurr leaned back into his touch.

"Aren't you? Aren't you the one who suggested it? Aren't you the one who had to be ready for it?" Blurr asked, his glyphs flitting in the same pattern Shockwave's claws had moved to mere kliks ago. "Didn't you want to try with me, tonight, today, right now?"

Shockwave's subvocals warbled in amusement, "Careful, Blurr, you might just cut yourself with that glossa."

Blurr's smile broadened as he pressed closer, "There's only one glosa I want to cut myself on right now."

Shockwave hummed as he lead them farther into the complex. "And you've ate? No pressing matters that would take you hold and lapse us into waiting?"

Blurr shook his helm rapidly, finial nearly catching Shockwave in the side, "No sir, no way, not this time! I'm taking a P.P.V. and if I'm commed for an emergency I'm free to ignore. Ignore if it's not quints that is."

Shockwave's optic shuttered briefly. "You fear quintessons...? Any.... Particular reason why?"

Blurr shook his helm again, "I don't fear them, but you must admit, if you ever would admit to something, that quintessons on Cybertron is the last thing _anyone_ in their right processors would want." Shockwave merely inclined his helm. He seemed, oddly relieved. Blurr hoped for a nanoklik that Shockwave wasn't a quintesson supporter—not that it was likely with his background. Decepticons had even more reason to hate quintessons than most autobots nowadays did—slavery, forced coding, hacking, the works.

With little more preamble, Shockwave led them to the berthroom. Blurr had carpeting in here, mostly for comfort, but also to quiet things a bit more. Mesh absorbed sound better than plated metal did.

His engine revved excitedly as Shockwave tossed him up onto the berth. Shockwave leaned over him, engulfing the tiny speedster in his mass. A claw was laid feather-light over one of his thighs. "Are you ready?"

Blurr's faceplates blushed brightly. "Yes, sir!"

Shockwave warbled again, it was unclear who he was trying to comfort, Blurr, or himself. The tank ran his warm palms up and down Blurr's inner thighs, tracing the seams and occasionally brushing his claws up at the juncture between his thighs and his array. Blurr reached up, wrapping his arms around Shockwave's neck. He nuzzled his nasal ridge up against Shockwave's audial sensor. "We go at your pace."

Shockwave shuddered. His servo pressed flat against the front of Blurr's panel, "Then open..."

Blurr's array clicked open immediately. His primary and secondary ports spiraling open—his spike, half hard pressurized, and his valve lips plushened, the slightest hint of lubricant leaking out.

Blurr wasn't lying. The night was all about Shockwave. Despite their banter and the playful touching, Blurr knew the ex-con was nervous—had been ever since they made their relationship public. Shockwave gave many mixed signals, touching hard but pulling away before anything serious could happen, whispering sweet nothings to him but keeping his distance bodily, or pressing up against Blurr as if he was ready to put the speedster in his place, only to back off and leave the next moment. This was the first time _ever_ that they'd made it so far. Usually things went awry before they even entered the hallway, two orns before Shockwave hadn't even stepped into the hab. At this point, Blurr was ready to take whatever Shockwave gave him, even if was just another empty berth by the end of the night. That's what Shockwave trusted him to do, so he would.

However, the night was still looking up. Shockwave ran the flat end of his claw over the plush lips of Blurr's valve, tracing the lines and layers of protomesh that made them. The end of a claw cautiously but skillfully traced along the dermal plating surrounding his node. Blurr was careful to arch slowly into the touch—he wouldn't want to damage himself on accident. 

After a moment more of tweaking and teasing, Shockwave's servo wandered up. His grip was sure and solid around Blurr's spike. He kept a slow squeezing motion—oddly dexterous with only three claws, and he stared hard into Blurr's optics.

Blurr spread his legs indulgently, laying back and sighing softly at the ministrations. He could feel the ridges of Shockwave's inner joints as they passed over the node clutters at the base and head of his spike. He pressed his hips up, and Shockwave held his servos still as Blurr bucked up into them. After a moment his other servo came down to rest on Blurr's hips, keeping them in place on the berth. His servo slide from Blurr's spike to the head, the clawtip playing at the slit and making Blurr spit static.

A quick squeeze was administered to his hip flaring before Shockwave pulled back. Dazedly, Blurr scooted farther back onto the berth and shifted his legs minutely. He layed down on the top padding of the berth, frame open and vibrating with the force of his engine's excited purring.

Shockwave looked at him with adoration, and perhaps a bit of nervousness. He tilted his helm as he crouched over the smaller mech. "Before we go any further... There is something I must tell you."

Blurr looked up at him and hummed, "Yes?" Shockwave's optic averted. His claws tapped together. "Shockwave?" The hulking ex-con looked down at him and extended his field. There was restless nervous energy. There was also excitement, but it was tempered by a jumble of thoughts and feelings and burning shame that Blurr couldn't place. It wasn't like Shockwave to be so...unsure of himself. Blurr reached up and laid a servo on Shockwave's tread, "Don't hide from me, please, I'm ready to know you as you are, I've said as much before, that's why we're here right now."

Shockwave's field evened out and he began to pull back. "I know." Blurr was ready to scoot up and let the night end when Shockwave came back down, leaning right into Blurr's tiny chassis. "Blurr, I have... I have a mod."

Blurr stared blankly.

"A mod... In my valve."

Blurr perked immediately.

He was no stranger to mods—undercover missions did indeed necessitate an affinity to distract and woo targets with valuable intel, but special ops. especially had a hard time returning to civilian life due to interfacing mods like this. It was very likely that what Shockwave was so worried about were synthetic teeth. Designed to quickly and cleanly snap off any spikes that went inside. Sometimes it would happen because the agent was smaller and weaker than his target, and the only way to extract them would be to chomp off their spike, but sometimes the mod would activate because the agent needed something from their target, such as cna, to be used as evidence in cases, thus, off came the spike. In one harrowing tale, an agent had to convince his target to stick his servo into his valve so he could chomp off the mech's rings and sigils. Teeth mods were nasty business, but only when you were on the opposite end of them. Shockwave wasn't a great actor, no matter what his double-agent status said, if his field was nervous, it was became he didn't want to hurt Blurr. One intrusive thought wouldn't cause a mod to activate, as most civilians thought. Shockwave has no reason to be afraid.

Blurr's arms wound themselves around Shockwave's neck for the second time that night, "That's fine, I love your frame and I want to see it, if you'll let me?"

Shockwave held him tighter, then let go. His gaze was still uncertain, "I feel I may surprise you..."

"Then surprise me," Blurr grinned, "When has anything every stopped you before?"

Shockwave shuddered, then released him. He pressed himself up against Blurr's array and flipped them over, with Blurr on top. He whooped and giggled, pressing kisses onto the indented plating of Shockwave's chest and kissed down until their arrays were pressed together again.

"Are you ready?" Shockwave warbled.

"Are you?" Blurr shot back, his spike pressurized and light on Shockwave's thigh.

The tank released a slow, quiet sigh, then opened his array.

"Eeep!" Blurr squeaked as dozens of little tentacles wrapped themselves around his lower body. "Wh-what is—this!?" Blurr yelped as more slid over his spike, wrapping around it and making as if to pull it closer to the slit that was hidden beneath the undulating mass.

Shockwave grunted as the spike pressed against the opening, "One of, my—hhhf—mods—"

Blurr gasped hard when his valve was entered by a few stray tentacles. "This—is—amazing—I—"

"Ohhhhhh~ hello cutie! What an a _dorable_ little spike!"

Blurr reset his optics. He looked down.

The mass had opened up like an organic flower and from the slit sat many jagged rows of teeth.

Blurr reset his optics again.

The slit almost appeared to _tilt_ up at him and grin, "What, never seen a tentavalve mod before?"

Blurr pointed down at it, "Shockwave, what is this slag?"

Shockwave was laying prone and blue-faced on the berth. A servo came up to rub between his antennae and the side of his helm, "... My _second_ mod." The slit grinned wider and stuck a tongue—tentacle—out at Blurr's spike, attempting to coax it in with the rest of the tentacles.

"Shockwave... What... In the frag...?" 

"J-just get in—" Shockwave pulled Blurr's hips forward and suddenly he was engulfed in a wet heat. He could still feel the mouth trying to talk around his hardening spike. This was weird.

"Shockwave. This is weird."

Shockwave's optic seemed to shudder in a mix of pain and arousal, "I know. Spike me."

Uneasily, he did. The slit continued to warble and moan around his spike. There was a faint sucking sensation. There were still a couple of tentacles thrusting in and out of his valve from between his legs.

Later that evening Blurr had a talk with Shockwave and Shockwave's valve about the importance of thorough, clearly-worded communication.


End file.
